onlyemma's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why do you want to be in the Big Brother house? It�s about time I sat down and wrote. Where did I leave off? Oh yes; I went to London, yadda, yadda, yadda... trashy shade of blonde. Got it. A lot has happened in the last month. I feel I should condense it all down into a digestible list; 1) I didn�t get the job I went for in London (though apparently I was close); though through that job interview I did however find a date � on the National Express on my way home. When I went for my second interview we met up again in Leicester Square; had cocktails; kissed; I buggered off home. He was called Mike, he's in a band and he looked like Harry from McFly. It amounted to nothing. 2) I got a 3 day job in London street-casting for an Endemol programme. I met a man we nicknamed Stabby Joe, who had stab marks all over his face. It was good. I drank lots of free Starbucks coffees and bought a new hat from Accessorise and some Barry M lipstick. 3) I got dumped. Well, I say dumped but then I suppose we would�ve had to have been going out, which technically we weren�t; but nonetheless I was kicked to the curb; brushed to one side; put back on the shelf. You�re probably thinking, who is this loser?. His name was Nick, he�d asked me on a date in November, out of the blue, which is a nice surprise for anyone. We went out a few times and it was lovely. However, after a while he decided he liked me loads and started getting jealous and a bit possessive and pretending there were other girls on the scene so I�d get paranoid and ask him to be my boyfriend. He even kissed another girl and woke me up to tell me about it. And me being me, I was paranoid anyway. After that he�d insult me for no reason, saying I never made him laugh or that he didn�t think he�d end up with a girl like me (�a short, blonde, chubby girl�), but despite that crap, and because I�m a moron and all, I still liked him � he looked a bit like Paolo Nutini. Not the best basis of a relationship (or non-relationship) I admit, but a basis nonetheless. He was beautiful to look at; especially from the side. And when he was nice, he was very nice. He said he loved my 'grabby sides' and my belly smelled like marshmallows. In the end, because I liked him, I got a bit annoyed when he didn�t get in touch for 4 days after our last date; told him in a reasonable way (not whiney), however this spurred him to hastily dump me as he�d decided through this exchange that I was �annoying�. That was 2 weeks ago- he left me with a dramatic flourish, managing to make me cry by using plenty of foul language and telling me I was mental. I only deleted him from my Facebook! I didn�t want him trying to make me jealous anymore with his status updates - 2 days after our petty argument which rendered me a bit dumped - of �Nick is missing Harriet...� whoever the bloody hell she is. So I thought, �I�m having none of this, thanks. You�re facebook chucked; that�s right, you can�t even trawl through my photos now.� Serves him right, the bastard. 4) I have a job on Big Brother. I�m trying not to get too excited yet; as there�s nothing in writing at the moment, but I went down to work on the London Big Brother auditions at the weekend. Whilst there I was given the name Big Emma, as there was another girl on the team called Emma, whom was about an inch smaller than me. She was Small Emma and I was Big Emma; to be honest, I didn't like it much. Especially when people asked for me on talk-back." Anyway, on the last day I got asked if I wanted to be a runner on the main show. Honestly, I was amazed, especially as by day four I looked like I�d drop dead any minute and had developed this spectacular limp. I�m silently and prematurely over-excited about it all so I�m trying to calm myself down and stop hyperventilating every split second or doing victory dances in my head. It would start in March. What a perfect job for a Big Brother addict like me?! I�ll hear about it next week, but I�m still checking my emails like a madwoman, about fifty million times a day. And that�s the story so far. You can sigh a big sigh of relief � you�re all caught up. Back to today and a few moments ago I went into the kitchen for some Cinnamon Crunch and started singing a Backstreet Boys hit in my best Nick Carter voice and my mum told me to shut up just as I was about to launch into the chorus. �Show me the meaning of being lo-� �SHUT IT!� She then started laughing at me, standing over my bowl with my mouth open with a quizzical look on my face and said, �Oh Emma, I love that you�re like whatever-you-are, never lose it... keep that whatever-it-is, just be a bit quieter�. I love that not even my own mother can define me. Anyway. You know who I miss? O Town. They were lovely boys. I miss Dan the most. Oh my God, look how embarrassed this girl looks. Give it a minute, you'll spot her. She absolutely hates being sung to, it�s hilarious. The old women in the crowd are looking at her encouragingly, but to no avail, she still looks like she wishes she was at the back. Check out those moves. Right, I better get out of my pyjamas. Today I�m going to meet a nice boy for a cup of tea. I met him just before Christmas on my way home from my Endemol job; I�ve realised modes of transport are my main catchment area for nice eligible men. After I�ve wiped out the bargain coaches and have a bit more money I may start dipping into National Rail. Watch out! However, after reading paragraph one you will realise that these National Express beauties never go very far, so obviously today will amount to nothing; but still, it�s good to get out of the house. 1:10 p.m. - 2008-01-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||